Phantom's Aria Rewrite
by Cinder Child
Summary: Ths is my rewrite of The Phantom's Aria posted on THE IRISH PIRATE QUEEN's homepage.  I have changed it a lot, so please let me know what you think.


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Prologue

Crying aloud, the bedraggled young woman arched her back, writhing in pain. As another contraction the small, dingy room seemed to close in on her and she clutched the edges of the dirty pallet she lay on to keep from losing consciousness. Inside her the child struggled to emerge from her womb.

Suddenly, the girl's sister who crouched by her feet called, "I can see the head! Push quickly Marie, and for the love of God keep quiet! If the innkeeper finds that you are having a child, he is sure to tell the Madame and she will have you killed for hiding your pregnancy from her. "

Eager now for the pain to end, Marie waited for the next contraction, and when it came, she pushed with all of her might. A hushed squeal from her sister, Anne, announced a baby girl's arrival.

"Quick, let me see it," Marie demanded. "No, Marie, remember the gypsy woman warned us that the child must not bond with you. Then she might not take to her adoptive parents. I have to take her to the camp while it's still dark." Anne wrapped the little girl hastily in an old rag. She held it closely to the indecently sagging neckline of her dress and crept out the door carefully so no one would hear her.

"Goodbye, sweet. I hope you have a better life than any I could give you. The woman assured me that a pretty child could go to a good couple who wanted children." whispered Marie as the door swung shut behind her sister.

Incense swirled heavily in the small closed wagon. A few candles sputtered feebly, penetrating the gloom just enough to reveal and hunched figure seated at the table crammed against a corner. Stringy hair concealed any facial features, but crooked fingers with dirty jagged nails laid tarot cards down slowly before gathering them up and repeating the process.

Banging on the door ceased this activity and a voice called out, "Old Mother! The French woman is here with the baby! She wishes to speak with you."

Muttering beneath her breath the old woman slowly stood up and walked to the door. She opened it and stepped out into the grey light of predawn. Mist rose from the surrounding fields, shielding the camp from ill-wishers. A tall man stood before her, his hand gripping the arm of the young woman standing before her. She quickly took stock of the girl, noting the indecent cut of the dress and the hardened painted face of one who is old before her time. The bundle she clutched in her arms moved slightly every few moments.

Finally, Anne made an impatient motion, snatching her arm from the man's grip and spoke up. "Here, 'Old Mother'! Is this how you treat those you promise to help? Why am I held as though I am a prisoner? And where are these respectable parents who want the girl?

Old Mother nodded at the man who stepped to her side and helped her ascend the steps. When she stood face to face with Anne, she finally spoke in heavily accented French. "Would you rather walk here by yourself? Do you really think you would have escaped unscathed? If the older men had not killed you as a trespasser, then the younger men would have had their way with you. Oh yes, you wouldn't escape that just because of what you are. And you wouldn't be paid here for your 'services', either. You are fortunate that my son was the one to find you and recognize you."

Taken aback, Anne stared for a moment, then recovered her brazen attitude. "Well, do these parents want the child or not? I have…matters to attend to."

Old Mother held out her arms and once the child was safely in her grasp she said something in another language to her son. He strode forward, grasped Anne by the arm again, and led her from sight back toward the city she had just come from.

Old Mother was approached by a cackling hag. "Well, do you have the child? How soon can we sell her?" Old Mother pulled back the wrappings from the child's face only to shriek in anger and hurriedly unwrap the rest of her. "We've been tricked! This child is cursed! How can we sell her now?"

The light revealed the child's skin to be unnaturally, chalky white, with no visible hair. Old Mother pried and eyelid open to show a pink eye jerking away from the light. Shaking with anger, the woman shook her fist in the direction of Anne. "Curse you and your whore-sister both with painful deaths!" she screamed.

The old hag grasped her arm and shook her with more strength than her feeble body suggested. "Silence! Thankfully, I can remedy this and we can make even more money off her. Now this is what we must do…"


End file.
